


Preparations for the Impending Zombie Apocalypse

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’d like to call shotgun right now though…for when we have to leave town and go on the epic post-apocalyptic road trip.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preparations for the Impending Zombie Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR IT TAKES A VILLAGE! This fic is based on a story my friend Grace told me about running into someone in the liquor store when it’s too late for a casual drinker to be there. Also, the Liquor Barn is a real place, which cracks me up, though it’s not in Alexandria. So this is for Gracie all the way.

“No seriously,” Emily got out of her SUV, walked up to the automatic doors, and into the store. She was assaulted by Dead or Alive. Seriously, someone was actually playing _Brand New Lover_ in a store that didn’t sell leather pants, boas, or hooker heels. Wonders never ceased. She suddenly felt quite mature in her purple satin cropped pants, black ballet flats, and white scoop neck tee with three-quarter inch sleeves.

It was the height of fashion for September in Paris. Emily, however, was in Alexandria, Virginia. “It’s called the Liquor Barn. I couldn’t make it up even if I tried.” She laughed into her cell phone. “Well of course you’ve never heard of it. You’re one of the proper people. Shit, oops.”

“What's the matter?” Natalie asked.

“I just realized that I'm either going to have to hang up with you or get a shopping cart. Oh my God, I'm in a liquor store after nine o’clock on a Thursday night and I'm getting a cart. I need to ring the lush alarm.”

“Why can't you just use your Bluetooth?”

“That would be much easier if I knew where the thing was.” Emily grabbed one of the small shopping carts. “I lost it days ago. I looked everywhere but I'm starting to think George ate it or something. It's nowhere to be found.”

“So you were talking to me in the car on a cell phone?” Nat asked.

“No stepmother,” she laughed when she called her that, which ruined trying to sound firm. “I have speaker phone capabilities in my car. Its really neat…you and Daddy should look into it.”

“As if I need more reason for people to call me about things I don’t want to hear when I've managed to get away from work. No thank you.”

“Well, there is that. OK, this place has three aisles of just brandy.” Emily looked around, both in shock and awe. “I swear Nat, this place is the size of a Target. Who knew this Mecca for all things wine and spiritual could be found right outside of the nation’s capital? You could get lost in here. I don’t need much but it'll probably take some time to find it.”

She lazily pushed her cart around while perusing the aisles. She needed vodka, which she was sure they had many selections of. She needed sloe gin and Southern Comfort. A bottle of expensive bourbon would probably be good to have just because. She couldn’t forget the Galliano…there had to be Galliano in the house. Coconut rum wouldn’t hurt either.

Oh God, she definitely needed to ring the lush alarm. Emily needed wine. She was back from the dead and her wine rack was empty. She didn’t remember it being empty when she left. That was seven months ago but still, one remembered having no spirits. But nothing said friends missed you like them pilfering your good shit.

It wasn’t as if Emily was going to use it…she was dead. It would be cruel to let such good things go to waste. That was probably why a few pairs of her shoes were missing as well. That part spooked her out a little. And she wanted her leather car coat back for sure.

“Five shelves of red wine; it’s like being in Italy. But that’s not what I need…I need vodka.”

“It’s always good to have a few bottles of wine in the house though.” Nat said. “I know after a long day sometimes nothing else will due. Tea is great but wine is perfect.”

“I've never been much of a red wine drinker though. Ooh, four shelves of Rieslings.” Emily grabbed two bottles of Chateau Ste. Michelle, a Yellowtail, and a Napa Valley. Then she grabbed a bottle of Pinot Grigio and some Moscato as well. Now she could go to the hard stuff. “OK, I'm stocked up on wine for the time being.”

“What else do you need?” Natalie asked.

“I'm not telling you. I don’t want you thinking I'm a lush.”

“Sweetie, Liquor Barn, after 9, Thursday.”

“Alright, alright, I hear you. I didn’t…oh my God!”

“Emily?” Natalie called her name when she heard a crash. “Em, are you alright?”

“I just ran into someone.” Emily was looking down, inspecting her wine bottles to make sure they hadn't broken. You break it, you buy it. She at least wanted to drink it if she was paying for it. “I'm fine. I…” when she finally looked up, Emily saw just who it was she ran into. “Nat, I have to go.”

“Are you alright?”

“I'm fine, I promise; my wine is fine. I just ran into someone I know and I'm going to talk to them for a minute.”

“You just ran into someone you know in the Liquor Barn?” her stepmother asked.

“Yeah; I can't believe it either. I’ll text when I get home safe.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.” Emily hung up the phone and looked at her Unit Chief. “Hi.”

“This is definitely a surprise.” Hotch said.

He looked uncomfortable. It wasn’t his outfit, which was blue jeans and a black unzipped fleece jacket. He was wearing an _Abbey Road_ album cover tee shirt. She knew he was a rabid Beatles fan so that wasn’t a surprise. Emily was a little shocked it was wrinkled though. Hotch didn’t have a cart but he had bottles of Maker’s Mark, Glenfiddich, and Grey Goose.

“Stocking up?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

“I was in Pakistan for months. I didn’t remember being out but apparently I was.”

“You were in Pakistan?”

“Yes.” Hotch nodded. “I see you're doing some shopping too.”

“I don’t have anything at my place either. Hotch, what were you doing in Pakistan?”

“It’s a long story.” He replied.

“I've got a little time to kill.”

“Not really.” Hotch looked at his watch. “This place closes in about an hour and you have a cart. I assume you want to fill it.”

“I've never been here.” Emily said. “JJ told me about it but failed to mention it was a superstore. Do you know where anything is?”

“Tell me what you need and I can lead the way.”

He wasn’t really sure he wanted to do that. Hotch honestly wanted to pay for his liquor, go home, drink some, and go to sleep. It had been a long week and things were only going to get longer. A Senate subcommittee was looking into the deaths of Ian Doyle, Chloe Donaghy, and Lachlan McDermott. They were also looking into the not-death of Emily Prentiss.

He wished those were his only problems. There was also the matter of a fractured team and a very concerned Section Chief. Just when Erin Strauss was beginning to trust in him as an agent and possible successor, all hell broke loose. Not that Hotch cared about the possible successor thing, but it was much easier to do his job without her Christian Louboutin up his ass. The more things changed, Hotch was just fine with them not being the same.

“I don’t want to take up your time.” she said. “I'm sure I can find everything on my own. If I navigate the Odessa, Ukraine bus system then the Liquor Barn will not make me its bitch.”

“I want to help. Besides, it'll give me a chance to walk off the potential hip injury from the collision with your cart.”

“Oh my God,” she covered her mouth. “I am so sorry about that. I should've been paying much more attention. This is why they want you hands-free while driving.”

“Clearly.” Hotch smiled just a bit, enough for his dimples to peek through. Then he was walking away from Emily.

She thought she better follow or she would just be lost again. In 15 minutes, he’d gotten her everything she needed. While part of Emily was ashamed by the vast amount of liquor in her cart, she also knew it would be some time before she ever had to come to the Liquor Barn again. If she rejoined the BAU, and she honestly wasn’t sure about that no matter how much she wanted it, she would go back to having drinks out in the field with her team.

It wasn’t good to drink home alone anyway. But that didn’t mean you shouldn’t be prepared to at all times. _Always be prepared_ , Emily Prentiss lived by that motto. Sometimes.

“Wow, I must look like a real lush.” Emily laughed as they made their way to the checkout.

“No, but you are fully prepared for the zombie apocalypse when it comes to that.” Hotch replied.

“We’re going to have to be tipsy for the zombie apocalypse?” she asked.

“Probably.” He nodded.

“OK, then I'm set. You can get in front of me Hotch; I wouldn’t condemn you to being behind me.”

“Ladies first.” He said. “Anyway, I never had to chance to tell you that I’ll always have your back. I mean it in the Liquor Barn or anywhere else, Emily.”

She cleared her throat as she began to unload bottles onto the conveyor. Hotch never called her by her first name. It happened once or twice but since they’d known each other for almost 5 years now that really didn’t count. Prentiss was safe; it was distant and formal and very safe. Emily hated it but lived with it.

Aaron Hotchner was never going to change. She’d hoped once but as Red said in _The Shawshank Redemption_ , hope is a dangerous thing. She had been “killed”, left the people she loved for seven months, and now she was back. Emily Prentiss had changed. Nothing was absolutely certain in life but she was willing to bet the house that Hotch hadn't. Well, the beard had been different but was gone now too. Oh God, she was hopeless.

“So that means you'll have a place for me to crash just in case this zombie apocalypse thing turns out to be imminent?” she asked.

“Reid’s on it…we all live.”

“Good to know.” Emily smiled. “I think I might kick ass in a dirty tank top, leather pants and some motorcycle boots with a shotgun slung over my shoulder. I’d be like Sheri Moon Zombie minus the serial killer thing. Ooh, that would be a good look for me. I'm liking this zombie apocalypse scenario more and more.”

“You’ve thought about this.” Hotch said.

“Who hasn’t?” she asked. “You made me think about it more so clearly this whole thing is your fault. I’d like to call shotgun right now though…for when we have to leave town and go on the epic post-apocalyptic road trip.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

The guy at the register had to be at least a decade younger than her but he was easy on the eyes. He was the kind of guy Emily would've dated before Gabriel, when she was between fifteen and eighteen. His black hair was spiky but not overly so. He had a hoop in his ear, a seductive grin, and a sinewy body.

He was probably 30, 32 but looked 25. Or maybe he was 25 and had taken some hard knocks. It didn’t matter, he was hot. If she was there with JJ and not Hotch, Emily would've flirted.

“I'll need to see your ID.” He said when Emily handed over her credit card.

“Shouldn’t you ask for that before you ring me up?”

“It’s a requirement for anyone who looks under 27.”

“Bullshit.” She laughed, taking it from her pocket. “But I thank you.”

“You're welcome…and you're beautiful.”

Emily smiled again, glancing back at Hotch. The Unit Chief looked unimpressed. He thought every man was an Unsub…he probably thought it about some women too. She surely wasn’t going to think he was upset about her flirting with an attractive man.

Even if he was that was his issue. It wasn’t as if Emily was going to take the guy home and fuck him senseless. My God, it had been forever and nine days since she had sex. Having it with herself even got boring a while back; a woman needed passion.

A part of her thought of slipping him her number but even something so simple seemed like trigonometry these days. She was alive again; someday soon she would remember. There was too much in limbo right now. When her life settled again, Emily would as well. She really hoped she would.

Hotch paid for his bottles and soon they were walking out of the automatic doors together. The parking lot was well lit but seemed as dark as a cavern compared to the store. Emily thought that drunken people really wouldn’t be fond of the hostile fluorescent environment. Dead or Alive had to go too. She’d also heard Culture Club, the Go-Gos, Blues Traveler, and Suzanne Vega. That took her back to partying in Manhattan or DC when she was in college.

“Do you need some help with your bags?” Hotch asked. He wasn’t sure of what else to say and that seemed fitting.

He wanted to talk more to Emily since she’d been back but she wasn’t at the BAU with them everyday. He didn’t know if she ever would be again. Hotch hated how that made him feel. He wanted to know what she was feeling even if he had no idea how to ask. He knew she’d been checking to see if everyone else was alright. Reid wasn’t really speaking to her at the moment but she’d spent time with Morgan, JJ, Penelope, and Dave.

She hadn't spent any time with him but that would make it no different than before she left. But he’d missed her too. He didn’t know how much he would miss her until she wasn’t by his side anymore. Damn, how had Hotch not learned his lesson from all the other losses he’d suffered? At 45 was he still just dumb. It didn’t seem probable but was most likely true.

“Nope, I'm good.” She smiled some. “I'm glad I ran into you though. The Liquor Barn is a little too vast even for a professional drinker such as myself. Thanks for your help.”

“Perhaps we can use some of those spirits for a welcome home drink.” Hotch said as she was pushing her cart away. “You were truly missed and need to be welcomed back properly.”

“I thought about going to Mickey’s but I just haven’t had it in me yet. I'm still getting used to being here. I'm getting used to being me…how insane is that? And I know more is coming from the Doyle fallout. This is going to get worse before it gets better.”

“You're home now, Emily. Nothing could be better than that.”

It was the second time he’d called her Emily in one conversation. She wanted to call him on it but decided not to press. Hotch could retreat into his shell faster than a tortoise or spray you with sharp quills faster than a porcupine. All she wanted to do was go home and make herself a drink. There was a book on her nightstand and her satellite radio was on her favorite cheesy love songs station. Emily wanted to make this all about a relaxing night because she had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

“Give me a few weeks and I’ll let you know if that’s true.” she replied.

“It’s true for me. Everything else be damned.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “That’s nice.”

“I mean it.” Hotch said. “Nothing was the same without you. You’re back and I don't know if it'll ever be the same again. Maybe that’s for the best…change can be healthy. I'm sure you’ve changed after all of this. I've changed too.”

“I hope you haven’t changed too much.” Emily closed her back door once the liquor was inside. “Some things are just quintessentially Hotch.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Black suits, spiffy shoes, bad ties…that kind of thing.”

“That’s just the surface. I've changed on the inside.”

Emily didn’t know what to say about that. She didn’t know Aaron Hotchner on the inside. She speculated, profiled, pontificated, and occasionally just asked. Usually she was met with brick walls, barbed wire, and once or twice a snarling guard dog. Something in Emily used to keep pressing though.

But that was old Emily and she wasn’t that woman anymore. They would always be teammates, but anything more was unlikely. She didn’t even know if they could be friends. It wasn’t often someone got a second chance to live. Would she fall into the same traps, move on, try again with a new idea, or just tear the damn walls down brick by brick and take what she wanted?

“We could go together tomorrow night; to Mickey’s.” Hotch said. “They’ve still got the best potato skins in DC and I know Mike would love to see you.”

“Oh no fair pulling out the Mike card. I missed him and I'm so glad he didn't think I was dead.” Emily replied. She stood there for a few moments and then sighed. “Have you ever had a sloe comfortable screw, Agent Hotchner?” she opened her car door, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“It’s been a while.” He admitted, rolling his eyes but smiling.

“Then that’s what we’ll have tomorrow night. I’ll meet you there at eight.”

Hotch nodded as Emily pulled out of the parking space. She didn’t need to say anything more. Leaving it right there was perfect. It had never been perfect and that needed to change. Changes and second chances were coming for them all. From Paris to Pakistan to the Liquor Barn in Alexandria, Virginia, it was still possible.

***


End file.
